*with her fingers still clasping the stem, Frankie closes her eyes and thinks of the first time she'd met the Maestra, at her audition for a spot in the band; she thinks of rehearsals, everyone blithely following the Maestra's lead, like children under the direction of a benevolent but sometimes exasperated big sister, some of the players' tendency to goof off frustrating her at times; she remembers Herman and the Maestra glowing around each other like a pair of overzealous fireflies; the Maestra's last night; Herman's announcing the coming of the baby, and all the subsequent planning, the joy of a birth and a wedding in their odd, improvised little family; and she inevitably thinks of her brother and Mari, and she imagines the two of them welcome the Maestra and the babu boy into...well, wherever it is they'd all gone to, and forming their own little band and a warmth settles into her heart*

They're taken care of, you know. Mari and Johnny...they've got it covered.